


Always

by Kayim



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 12:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/pseuds/Kayim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gemma Teller Morrow and Wayne Unser have relied on each other for a lot longer than most people know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Dear Unovis,
> 
> Thank you for this prompt! I have loved Gemma and Unser since the first time we saw them both, and I always knew, deep in my heart, that there was something special that bonded them together. I just didn't know what. I do now, at least in my own little corner of fandom.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed discovering it. I attempted to get David Hale in here too, but he was busy comforting Tara and didn't seem to want to play. I think there might be another story there one day...
> 
> Happy Yuletide!

Wayne Unser didn't think twice when his phone rang. With some vague excuses to the remaining Sons about needing some privacy for something work related, he rushed out to his car and drove faster than the speed limit allowed to where Gemma was waiting.

She sat on a pile of grain bags, still regal looking despite the surroundings, and waved at him as the police car pulled up alongside. She climbed in beside him and offered a smile filled with apologies and gratitude.

"Where to?" he asked, pulling away, one eye on the rear-view mirror, convinced that he would see the familiar outline of a motorbike soon. He had been surprised when the Sons had let him leave without an escort, but he took the advantage that their distraction gave him.

Gemma shrugged and shook her head. "I have no idea," she said, the smile still on her face. They drove in silence past the sign that politely told them they were leaving Charming.

He waited to see if she would tell him why she was running, but she stayed quiet. He didn't push it, she'd tell him when she was ready. She always did.

 

*

 

"I can't do this, Gemma."

Twenty-three year old Wayne Unser stood facing the sixteen year old girl, hand in his pocket fingering the badge that he carried. She had bloodstains down the front of her shirt - not her blood she assured him – and held a small handgun out in front of her.

"You can hide it," she begged him, tears streaming down her face. "If the cops find it on me, I'll end up in jail."

"Gemma, I am the cops," he reminded her. She had called the station from a payphone near her house, refusing to speak to anyone but him. "I can't help you."

"You always do."

And that was the crux of the matter. She was right, of course. He always did.

The gun was hidden in the bottom of his chest of drawers and he enlisted in the US Marine Corp three weeks later. By the time he returned from Vietnam, the gun had gone.

 

*

 

"He's dead Wayne."

They sat next to one another in the small chapel, buried deep inside the solitude of the hospital. Her makeup was smeared on her face, streaking black mascara down her cheeks, but she still looked beautiful.

"You don't know that," he said, despite the knowledge that she was probably right. The accident had been bad – one of the worst he had ever seen – and he could tell that even if John Teller had survived, he wouldn't be able to lead the Sons anymore. You don't get hit by a semi doing that kind of speed and still ride. And he knew enough about motorcycle clubs to know that if you don't ride, you can't lead.

"I'm scared," she confessed, staring straight ahead, watching the flickering candles. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering despite the warmth of the room. "How the hell do I raise Jax by myself? He's a teenage boy. I know nothing about what that's like."

He reached across and placed his hand on hers. "You'll do what you always do," he told her. "You'll survive."

 

*

 

After the third doctor confirmed the diagnosis, he finally accepted that it was real. He had cancer, untreatable, terminal.

He told no one that he was dying, believing that if he never spoke of it, it wouldn't be true.

It was Gemma he eventually confessed to, as it always had been.

She had cupped his cheek, her hand warming his face, and whispered "Oh, Wayne" in a way he would cherish forever.

"I'll be okay," he told her, both of them choosing to accept the lie. "Maybe the doctors were wrong."

 

*

 

She circled the room, offering a smile or an encouraging word wherever needed. He watched her closely, seeing the warmth of the woman he knew combined with the power of the woman that the club knew.

She caught him looking at her and walked over to him. "I'm glad you're here, Wayne."

Unser smiled at her. By coming here, he had finally stepped over the fence he had been straddling for so long, and the weight that had been pressing down on his heart had lifted.

"Me too," he replied, looking around at the familiar faces that filled the clubhouse. For so long, they had been on the opposite sides of the law, with him having arrested several of them for minor offenses like drug possession or prostitution, and now he was sharing a home with them, relying on them for his own protection. "I'll be glad when this mess is cleaned up though," he added.

"You and me both," replied Gemma. Her voice softened and she spoke quietly enough that no one could overhear. "How you feeling?"

As if on cue, he gave a small cough. "I've been better," he confessed. The cancer was spreading and it was becoming harder and harder for him to carry on as he had. That was one of the reasons why he had made this stand now. A final stand, at least in his own eyes.

"You need anything to ease the pain?" Unser appreciated Gemma's discretion. While the cannabis was helping, he wasn't proud of the fact that he needed something that was generally considered illegal, despite the laws allowing it for medical purposes.

"Not at the moment," he told her, the pain still bearable at the moment.

"Well, you let me know. I know a guy..." She smiled back at him.

"You're trying to corrupt me," he told her, the small laugh causing him to cough again.

"Just like always," she replied.

 

*

 

"We'll be okay, won't we?"

It was the first thing she had said to him in almost a hundred miles.

"I don't know," he admitted. The fantasies he had about them being together had been buried inside him for too many years, but they were resurfacing again and he imagined them building new lives thousands of miles away from Charming. Miles from his wife and her family.

He took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance over at her. She twisted her wedding ring distractedly and he realized that it could never be. Gemma Teller Morrow belonged to the Sons of Anarchy, not him, and that was the way it was.

"We'll get this sorted out," he assured her. "We'll get you home again."

"Promise me?"

"Always."


End file.
